It's been another week between posts. A fact that both shocks me and doesn't surprise me at all, in equal proportions.
It's been a week filled with more nastiness from DH (I probably should explain every now and then for my newer friends that DH does NOT stand for Dear Husband here on my blog. It stands for Dick Head. My ex-husband. Sorry to be so blunt. But there you have it.) and more downtimes for me.
But there have been some bright spots too and all in all I can feel my spirit lifting. God knows I've been trying.
On Thursday night we had Dina (and her husband Tim and son Jack) from The Girl Who Wished She Was Australian over for dinner. We'd organised this before she left Texas for her Australian holiday, and I wasn't going to let a little bout of depression stop me from meeting her. I will, however, admit to feeling more than my usual sense of anxiety prior to meeting a bloggy friend for the very first time.
We had a fantastic evening. All that wasted anxiety!! It was as though we'd known each other for years. Really. We were laughing at the most ridiculous things within about an hour.... a real indication of true simpatico in my books. We played Trivial Pursuit, ate large amounts of food and became good friends. All in the space of a few hours. (photos soon... I promise).
It was so good, in fact, that we're doing it again next week.
And I feel up to it. A true leap forward from the way I've been feeling these last few weeks.
So many of you have emailed me "just checking in". THANK YOU. Thank you. Thank you.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Darkness....
I’m still in a dark dark place... and the energy required to do the things that I HAVE to do leaves me totally and utterly depleted. But I’m still here... and I draw strength and a feeling of connection by reading all my fave bloggy-friends’ posts.
My friend is back in the hospital. In fact, since I last wrote about her, she’s been in and out three times. You can only imagine how awful this has been. I remain optimistic about her long term recovery, however, and this helps me keep in touch with the sliver of hope that my own “funk” will ease soon.
DH has been overstepping his boundaries with the boys. He telephones them every day and night, and yesterday he actually picked them up from school and took them for a “play” WITHOUT TELLING ME. He’s doing this to try to prove to a registrar that he is a great Dad, and to try to make up to the boys for years of not giving a shit, but you don’t do that to a mother who is worried sick because her 10 year old son is 15 minutes late home from school. My brain is imploding because apparently if a mother does this she is “clingy” and “invasive” but if a father does this he is “caring” and “enthusiastic”.
And of course Toto and Boo are trying to look after me emotionally. I try SO hard to hide this stuff from them.... SO hard. But it’s impossible to hide the puffy eyes from crying all day, or the burnt dinner from forgetting that I was cooking at all, or the anger with their father for bringing them home with homework undone and school clothes unwashed, and for interrupting our time together every day.
Mainly it’s just the fact that I cry at the drop of a pin.
This is so not good at this point in the legal proceedings. It’s such a catch-22. If it wasn’t for the legal stuff I wouldn’t BE in this depressive episode. And that’s where my brain catches fire and starts melting and my tear ducts develop a mind of their own.
Still, the boys seem to be okay. Boo laughed at me the other day when I was trying to say something positive about DH. He laughed in a comfortable way... and said “Mum, I know you’re trying to make us feel better, but you don’t have to lie”. It’s so tempting to say “Phew! Okay! Thanks babe..... let’s talk about what a total dish-rag he is!” but no.... I said “I’m not lying darling. ALL parents argue sometimes. Daddy and I don’t agree on what’s best for you at the moment, that’s all.” vomit.puke.bullsh*t.
My friend is back in the hospital. In fact, since I last wrote about her, she’s been in and out three times. You can only imagine how awful this has been. I remain optimistic about her long term recovery, however, and this helps me keep in touch with the sliver of hope that my own “funk” will ease soon.
DH has been overstepping his boundaries with the boys. He telephones them every day and night, and yesterday he actually picked them up from school and took them for a “play” WITHOUT TELLING ME. He’s doing this to try to prove to a registrar that he is a great Dad, and to try to make up to the boys for years of not giving a shit, but you don’t do that to a mother who is worried sick because her 10 year old son is 15 minutes late home from school. My brain is imploding because apparently if a mother does this she is “clingy” and “invasive” but if a father does this he is “caring” and “enthusiastic”.
And of course Toto and Boo are trying to look after me emotionally. I try SO hard to hide this stuff from them.... SO hard. But it’s impossible to hide the puffy eyes from crying all day, or the burnt dinner from forgetting that I was cooking at all, or the anger with their father for bringing them home with homework undone and school clothes unwashed, and for interrupting our time together every day.
Mainly it’s just the fact that I cry at the drop of a pin.
This is so not good at this point in the legal proceedings. It’s such a catch-22. If it wasn’t for the legal stuff I wouldn’t BE in this depressive episode. And that’s where my brain catches fire and starts melting and my tear ducts develop a mind of their own.
Still, the boys seem to be okay. Boo laughed at me the other day when I was trying to say something positive about DH. He laughed in a comfortable way... and said “Mum, I know you’re trying to make us feel better, but you don’t have to lie”. It’s so tempting to say “Phew! Okay! Thanks babe..... let’s talk about what a total dish-rag he is!” but no.... I said “I’m not lying darling. ALL parents argue sometimes. Daddy and I don’t agree on what’s best for you at the moment, that’s all.” vomit.puke.bullsh*t.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Agitation...
Wednesday, although my darling Toto's birthday, was a terribly uncomfortable day for me. The helplessness of knowing that I had already contributed the very most that I could financially and that the Australian Red Cross will not accept my blood (lived in the UK during the Mad Cow outbreak) was leaving me unsettled and agitated.
And so I did some research and discovered that, although right now all local storage facilities for clothing donations for the victims of the Victorian Bushfires are filled to capacity, they will soon be desperate for more. I spent hours going through my cupboards and drawers.... removing every single item of clothing that I haven't worn in the last year.... and ended up with 5 garbage bags full of pretty good clothes. In many varied sizes.
I've added sheets, blankets and kitchen utensils, and will be giving them to the Salvation Army this week.
Still... I wish there was more that I could do to help.
I can't watch the news. I can't read the newpapers.
You see... I'm feeling very depressed. And the fact that there are so many people SO much worse off than me just makes me feel even more depressed. Because it makes me feel guilty for feeling so depressed. I feel as though I "should" be able to cope with my lot when all of those people have to cope with SO MUCH MORE. When, of course, this is not about choice at all.
This is one of those things that can be difficult to explain to someone who hasn't suffered from depression. And you'd probably be too kind to say it to my face, or to leave it in a comment, but I'm sure that the thoughts "Be strong! You'll get through it! You've got a roof over your head! You've got your boys!" have flickered through at least one of your minds. Well, I promise you that those are the thoughts that are constantly in my mind as I struggle to get out of bed, to wash, to function, to stop crying for more than a few minutes at a time.
On a good note, my friend is home from the hospital.... and doing well.
And so I did some research and discovered that, although right now all local storage facilities for clothing donations for the victims of the Victorian Bushfires are filled to capacity, they will soon be desperate for more. I spent hours going through my cupboards and drawers.... removing every single item of clothing that I haven't worn in the last year.... and ended up with 5 garbage bags full of pretty good clothes. In many varied sizes.
I've added sheets, blankets and kitchen utensils, and will be giving them to the Salvation Army this week.
Still... I wish there was more that I could do to help.
I can't watch the news. I can't read the newpapers.
You see... I'm feeling very depressed. And the fact that there are so many people SO much worse off than me just makes me feel even more depressed. Because it makes me feel guilty for feeling so depressed. I feel as though I "should" be able to cope with my lot when all of those people have to cope with SO MUCH MORE. When, of course, this is not about choice at all.
This is one of those things that can be difficult to explain to someone who hasn't suffered from depression. And you'd probably be too kind to say it to my face, or to leave it in a comment, but I'm sure that the thoughts "Be strong! You'll get through it! You've got a roof over your head! You've got your boys!" have flickered through at least one of your minds. Well, I promise you that those are the thoughts that are constantly in my mind as I struggle to get out of bed, to wash, to function, to stop crying for more than a few minutes at a time.
On a good note, my friend is home from the hospital.... and doing well.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Happy Birthday Toto!!
Dearest Toto,
Thank you for choosing me to be your Mummy.
In your life thus far, you have taught me so much about loving, being loved, patience, kindness and true joy.
I cannot imagine my world without you in it.
I love you to the moon and back. Times infinity. And more. No returns.
Your Mummy.
Bogus Charities...
The next round of leeches and bloodsuckers.
Please give your hard earned donations to the following charities only:
... and be wary of any collection points that you do not know already, and trust implicitly.
And please give blood if you possibly can.
Please give your hard earned donations to the following charities only:
- The Australian Red Cross Victorian Bushfire Appeal
- The Salvation Army
... and be wary of any collection points that you do not know already, and trust implicitly.
And please give blood if you possibly can.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Are you kidding me?
Go here to read the first of what will probably be many completely insane nutjobs trying to use the death and destruction of the bushfires to advance their own purposes.
Can there be any lower form of life?
Can there be any lower form of life?
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Top Gear Live...
Today really feels like a day of mourning here in Australia. The death toll from the bushfires keeps rising (currently 76, and 700 homes completely destroyed) and hundreds, if not thousands, of our countrymen will get no sleep tonight as they try to protect their property and their lives.
Those of us who are safe are feeling helpless. A quick tour through many of my favourite blogs shows that this issue is first in all our minds. I guess all we can do right now is donate money or clothes / bedding / toys, and ensure that we don't waste a drop of water... so that all possible can be directed towards the bushfires.
As well as sorrow and helplessness, I'm also feeling a rage so deep that it has not reached the surface yet. These fires were lit intentionally. It's unfathomable. Unspeakable.
We in Sydney have had our 40+ degree weekend this weekend. And while most people were travelling from the hotter inland western suburbs to the cooler eastern and northern beaches, my boys and I travelled in the exact opposite direction. Our behaviour was SO unusual today, that we had practically the entire train to ourselves.
So... we sweated our way west.......
... until we reached nirvana.
Oh yes, we went to the "Top Gear Live" performance! Nirvana for a boy about to turn 12 AND for his brother and his Mum. It's absolutely our favourite telly programme and when we heard that they were coming to Australia, we just couldn't resist.
It was hot.
And a big part of the experience was walking around looking at sexy cars that cost more than most houses. In the heat.
Formula One vehicle and fans!
And then we went inside into the bliss of the airconditioning... to our nosebleed seats, two rows from the top.
... for an exciting show filled with gasoline, testoterone, inappropriate sexual inuendo and a finale of car-soccer!
It was fun. Exhausting but fun.
And then we struggled with 90 minutes of non-airconditioned trains to get home.
"Mum! Look! An Alien must have been murdered there!! Green Blood!"
Those of us who are safe are feeling helpless. A quick tour through many of my favourite blogs shows that this issue is first in all our minds. I guess all we can do right now is donate money or clothes / bedding / toys, and ensure that we don't waste a drop of water... so that all possible can be directed towards the bushfires.
As well as sorrow and helplessness, I'm also feeling a rage so deep that it has not reached the surface yet. These fires were lit intentionally. It's unfathomable. Unspeakable.
We in Sydney have had our 40+ degree weekend this weekend. And while most people were travelling from the hotter inland western suburbs to the cooler eastern and northern beaches, my boys and I travelled in the exact opposite direction. Our behaviour was SO unusual today, that we had practically the entire train to ourselves.
So... we sweated our way west.......
... until we reached nirvana.
Oh yes, we went to the "Top Gear Live" performance! Nirvana for a boy about to turn 12 AND for his brother and his Mum. It's absolutely our favourite telly programme and when we heard that they were coming to Australia, we just couldn't resist.
It was hot.
And a big part of the experience was walking around looking at sexy cars that cost more than most houses. In the heat.
Formula One vehicle and fans!And then we went inside into the bliss of the airconditioning... to our nosebleed seats, two rows from the top.
... for an exciting show filled with gasoline, testoterone, inappropriate sexual inuendo and a finale of car-soccer!
It was fun. Exhausting but fun.
And then we struggled with 90 minutes of non-airconditioned trains to get home.
"Mum! Look! An Alien must have been murdered there!! Green Blood!"Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Guera Parkinson presents....
About a month ago I put my hand up to be interviewed for a meme by the wonderful Guera.
Here 'tis...
1. What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done?
The most outrageous thing I’ve ever done has been to pack up and leave Australia on my own without a plan. I had a vague idea of heading west to east around the world, but other than that, I was open to universal intervention and whim.
That trip ended up lasting about 4 years longer than initially planned, and brought more riches into my life (friendships, experiences) than I could have imagined. It also brought drama and some horrendous experiences, but even those are experiences that I’m glad I’ve had, and that I’ve learned and grown from.
2. I know you've lived in and visited some amazing places around the globe. If you could travel anywhere in the world (and money was no object) where would you go and why?
My answer to this one changes daily. The problem with having lived in so many places is that I have developed such close friendships with people who live so far away from me. Most days I’d make my choice depending upon the friend that I’m missing the most.
I have an incredibly soft spot for Scotland. In particular, the north-east coast. It might be because of a genetic disposition towards my ancestor’s homeland. It might be because one of my closest friends lives in Glasgow. But I suspect it’s because I am deeply moved by dramatic, changing and unpopulated scenery. I truly feel at peace there.
I also love the south of Italy. Love love love it! I would LOVE to take my boys on a road trip along the Mediterranean Sea from Italy to France, in an open-top car. I would need a ginormous amount of money to that, however! There’s something very frivolous about that part of Europe (in my humble opinion!). I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s not a place I would like to live, and it’s far too crowded for an extended holiday, but a road trip is the perfect way to observe and enjoy from a distance.
3. They’re turning the story of your life into movie. What’s the title and the genre?
This is the hardest question for me of all of them! The genre is definitely Drama. No doubt about that. I don’t feel clever enough or objective enough to make up a title, but if I had to brainstorm one, I’d probably start with “Waiting to climb off the Merry-Go-Round” or something similar. Not clever or zippy enough, but it expresses how I feel.
4. How has blogging changed you?
I was discussing this in a round-about way this morning, with my Glaswegian friend mentioned above. I’m actually not very comfortable sharing my feelings with others irl (in real life) and although I have many friends, I have very few with whom I allow myself to truly feel vulnerable. I'm good at talking about myself quite honestly in terms of retrospective experiences, but when I'm in the middle of things and most needing support, those closest to me are used to hearing me say “I just can’t talk about it right now” and sometimes that “right now” lasts for ever.
Which means that blogging has had an incredibly positive influence on my ability to cope with the drama that life throws my way. I am more comfortably vulnerable in this environment than I am in any other. In other words, I am learning to accept support comfortably.
Perhaps it’s to do with why I chose to become a psychotherapist. I’m much more comfortable listening to and supporting others than I am allowing someone to listen to and support me. And yet here, on my blog, I cherish every supportive commenter and every lurker...
5. What is the worst and best jobs you've ever had?
Worst job was selling advertising space for an Art and Antiques Magazine in London. I am SO not a salesperson!
Best job.... motherhood. That was easy. If you’re going to push it and ask me for my best paid job, I’d have to say it’s my work as a psychotherapist. Being paid to help and support others without revealing anything of myself is about as perfect as it gets for me (see question 4!).
Now, if you’d like to be interviewed by me, here’s what you need to do:
Here 'tis...
1. What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done?
The most outrageous thing I’ve ever done has been to pack up and leave Australia on my own without a plan. I had a vague idea of heading west to east around the world, but other than that, I was open to universal intervention and whim.
That trip ended up lasting about 4 years longer than initially planned, and brought more riches into my life (friendships, experiences) than I could have imagined. It also brought drama and some horrendous experiences, but even those are experiences that I’m glad I’ve had, and that I’ve learned and grown from.
2. I know you've lived in and visited some amazing places around the globe. If you could travel anywhere in the world (and money was no object) where would you go and why?
My answer to this one changes daily. The problem with having lived in so many places is that I have developed such close friendships with people who live so far away from me. Most days I’d make my choice depending upon the friend that I’m missing the most.
I have an incredibly soft spot for Scotland. In particular, the north-east coast. It might be because of a genetic disposition towards my ancestor’s homeland. It might be because one of my closest friends lives in Glasgow. But I suspect it’s because I am deeply moved by dramatic, changing and unpopulated scenery. I truly feel at peace there.
I also love the south of Italy. Love love love it! I would LOVE to take my boys on a road trip along the Mediterranean Sea from Italy to France, in an open-top car. I would need a ginormous amount of money to that, however! There’s something very frivolous about that part of Europe (in my humble opinion!). I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s not a place I would like to live, and it’s far too crowded for an extended holiday, but a road trip is the perfect way to observe and enjoy from a distance.
3. They’re turning the story of your life into movie. What’s the title and the genre?
This is the hardest question for me of all of them! The genre is definitely Drama. No doubt about that. I don’t feel clever enough or objective enough to make up a title, but if I had to brainstorm one, I’d probably start with “Waiting to climb off the Merry-Go-Round” or something similar. Not clever or zippy enough, but it expresses how I feel.
4. How has blogging changed you?
I was discussing this in a round-about way this morning, with my Glaswegian friend mentioned above. I’m actually not very comfortable sharing my feelings with others irl (in real life) and although I have many friends, I have very few with whom I allow myself to truly feel vulnerable. I'm good at talking about myself quite honestly in terms of retrospective experiences, but when I'm in the middle of things and most needing support, those closest to me are used to hearing me say “I just can’t talk about it right now” and sometimes that “right now” lasts for ever.
Which means that blogging has had an incredibly positive influence on my ability to cope with the drama that life throws my way. I am more comfortably vulnerable in this environment than I am in any other. In other words, I am learning to accept support comfortably.
Perhaps it’s to do with why I chose to become a psychotherapist. I’m much more comfortable listening to and supporting others than I am allowing someone to listen to and support me. And yet here, on my blog, I cherish every supportive commenter and every lurker...
5. What is the worst and best jobs you've ever had?
Worst job was selling advertising space for an Art and Antiques Magazine in London. I am SO not a salesperson!
Best job.... motherhood. That was easy. If you’re going to push it and ask me for my best paid job, I’d have to say it’s my work as a psychotherapist. Being paid to help and support others without revealing anything of myself is about as perfect as it gets for me (see question 4!).
Now, if you’d like to be interviewed by me, here’s what you need to do:
- Send me an email or a comment saying: “Interview Me”
- I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions. You can then answer the questions on your blog.
- You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you or comments that they want to be interviewed.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The recovery....
Firstly, thank you SO MUCH to everyone for your wonderful words of support, encouragement and advice.
I did speak with Toto's Year 7 Advisor. I telephoned him this morning and asked him to keep an eye on Toto. I explained what was going on, and told him that Toto was extremely distressed and anxious and needed to know that there was someone in the school that he could talk to. I also asked him to please be discrete. He wasn't very comforting, but did say that he would talk to Toto during the day.
I then apologised to my Mum. She said that she understood.
I spent three hours sitting at the hospital with my friend today. She was re-admitted yesterday, after a couple of weeks of sliding backwards. It's so sad. So sad for her and so sad for her family. Still, she has a treatment plan and I'm confident that she won't be in there for nearly as long this time.
It did wear me out though. She relies upon me to convince her that she is capable of recovery. I know that I have to look after myself right now, in order to be able to look after my own family, but I can't refuse her in this time of need. I just can't.
By the time I got to Toto's school to collect him, I had a plan for a "recovery evening" for the three of us. It included a bit of baking, a favourite dinner, and a reward for completion of homework (a neck massage, a back tickle and favourite bedtime story).
By absolute chance, I met with the Year 7 advisor at the school gate, and he was much warmer in person. It's possible he's just not comfortable on the telephone. He was very understanding and supportive and reassured me immensely. By chance again, I met with the Principal and had another conversation with him about the situation. I was careful about what I said (I save my DH bagging for my blog) and kept my concerns limited to the impact of the court case on Toto, not the cause or content. He was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
And so, despite Toto and I having to lug his incredibly heavy cricket bag home on public transport, our recovery evening went beautifully to plan.
We baked brownies....
Licking the bowl while sitting in front of the oven watching the brownies baking
Completed all the homework.....
...and laughed together more than we have in weeks. It was perfect.
I did speak with Toto's Year 7 Advisor. I telephoned him this morning and asked him to keep an eye on Toto. I explained what was going on, and told him that Toto was extremely distressed and anxious and needed to know that there was someone in the school that he could talk to. I also asked him to please be discrete. He wasn't very comforting, but did say that he would talk to Toto during the day.
I then apologised to my Mum. She said that she understood.
I spent three hours sitting at the hospital with my friend today. She was re-admitted yesterday, after a couple of weeks of sliding backwards. It's so sad. So sad for her and so sad for her family. Still, she has a treatment plan and I'm confident that she won't be in there for nearly as long this time.
It did wear me out though. She relies upon me to convince her that she is capable of recovery. I know that I have to look after myself right now, in order to be able to look after my own family, but I can't refuse her in this time of need. I just can't.
By the time I got to Toto's school to collect him, I had a plan for a "recovery evening" for the three of us. It included a bit of baking, a favourite dinner, and a reward for completion of homework (a neck massage, a back tickle and favourite bedtime story).
By absolute chance, I met with the Year 7 advisor at the school gate, and he was much warmer in person. It's possible he's just not comfortable on the telephone. He was very understanding and supportive and reassured me immensely. By chance again, I met with the Principal and had another conversation with him about the situation. I was careful about what I said (I save my DH bagging for my blog) and kept my concerns limited to the impact of the court case on Toto, not the cause or content. He was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
And so, despite Toto and I having to lug his incredibly heavy cricket bag home on public transport, our recovery evening went beautifully to plan.
We baked brownies....
Licking the bowl while sitting in front of the oven watching the brownies bakingEDITED TO REMOVE CUTE PHOTO OF BOO LICKING THE INSIDE OF THE BOWL AT THE REQUEST (DEMAND, THREATENED TANTRUM) OF BOO
"Boo, could you get your head any further inside that bowl?"
Completed all the homework.....
...and laughed together more than we have in weeks. It was perfect.(and I know that they're in their underwear, but it's the first thing they do when they get in the door! Go figure!)
Oh... and on top of that...
my dear friend is back in the psychiatric hospital.
The stars are just not lining up right now.
The stars are just not lining up right now.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Bastard....
Toto is a mess.
It started when he came home from DH's on Sunday night with homework not done. Grrrrr. We stayed up trying to finish it, but he was stressed about the court hearing and so we left a few things undone. He and Boo were also dead tired after two very late nights and early mornings. Oh, and their school uniforms were not washed. Grrrr.
Today, at the school gate, I had a word to the School Principal. He's a really lovely man, and was very pleased that I had told him what was going on. I simply asked that he keep an eye on Toto, and he said that Toto or I must feel free to visit him or the Year 7 advisor if he ever needed to talk to anyone.
I tried to make tonight a celebration. And initially it was. But the weight of now thinking that whatever the boys tell their lawyers will decide the case one way or another is tearing Toto apart. Boo seems okay. He still says that he is scared of DH's reaction to whatever he says (via a lawyer or to his face) but he's taking my words as literal and is not feeling pressure. Toto is unable to believe me. I guess it's because he's just that little bit older and that little bit more anxious.
Tonight he's struggling with much more homework. This is the reality of Year 7 for all of our kids. It's such a HUGE leap from primary school to high school in terms of organisation and volume of work. But this particular boy is being forced by his father to continue after school training and weekend sport (even though he's now got in-school representative sport) when he doesn't want to because he knows that he won't be able to cope with it on top of his homework. I've emailed DH explaining why Toto wants to give it up, but he's ignoring my emails.
Toto sees it as another level of powerlessness. And it is. It's another example of DH not listening to his child. Not considering his child.
And that child sat up late here with me struggling with homework and a perceived burden for the outcome of a family court case. And he just doesn't believe me when I tell him that their IS NO BURDEN. It's all about truth, which is why someone else will make a decision. And that all he has to do is be honest. And that either outcome will be okay. We'll make it work. And that he is not responsible for my or DH's happiness. And that nothing in the world could ever change how I feel about him.
Am I messing up here? I don't know what else I can do. The circumstances were and are such that I cannot hide the fact that there IS a court case from him, but of course he knows NOTHING of the contents or details.
Toto wants to see someone to talk about this stuff. A counsellor. And the thing that is killing me right now is that I am not allowed to take him to any counsellor as it WILL be construed as me trying to coerce him or have him "taught" what to say to the court when his turn comes. When all I want to do is help my aching child.
I'd like to write to the School Principal and arrange to talk with him because surely, as a Christian school, they provide Pastoral Care? I am worried, however, because DH's sister teaches there, and has taught there for nearly 8 years. I'm just not quite sure about whether she would use this against me as a means for her brothers' quest.
Bastard..... How could anyone knowingly do this to their children? And he DOES know, because the children and I have tried to tell him. He just needs to win at any cost. My brother told me today that feels sorry for ALL of us. DH included. I tried that emotion on for a second or two. And then shrugged it off in a shudder of revulsion. I cannot empathise with this man. Eleven years of being at the receiving end of his treatment of me and my children has taught me that.
It started when he came home from DH's on Sunday night with homework not done. Grrrrr. We stayed up trying to finish it, but he was stressed about the court hearing and so we left a few things undone. He and Boo were also dead tired after two very late nights and early mornings. Oh, and their school uniforms were not washed. Grrrr.
Today, at the school gate, I had a word to the School Principal. He's a really lovely man, and was very pleased that I had told him what was going on. I simply asked that he keep an eye on Toto, and he said that Toto or I must feel free to visit him or the Year 7 advisor if he ever needed to talk to anyone.
I tried to make tonight a celebration. And initially it was. But the weight of now thinking that whatever the boys tell their lawyers will decide the case one way or another is tearing Toto apart. Boo seems okay. He still says that he is scared of DH's reaction to whatever he says (via a lawyer or to his face) but he's taking my words as literal and is not feeling pressure. Toto is unable to believe me. I guess it's because he's just that little bit older and that little bit more anxious.
Tonight he's struggling with much more homework. This is the reality of Year 7 for all of our kids. It's such a HUGE leap from primary school to high school in terms of organisation and volume of work. But this particular boy is being forced by his father to continue after school training and weekend sport (even though he's now got in-school representative sport) when he doesn't want to because he knows that he won't be able to cope with it on top of his homework. I've emailed DH explaining why Toto wants to give it up, but he's ignoring my emails.
Toto sees it as another level of powerlessness. And it is. It's another example of DH not listening to his child. Not considering his child.
And that child sat up late here with me struggling with homework and a perceived burden for the outcome of a family court case. And he just doesn't believe me when I tell him that their IS NO BURDEN. It's all about truth, which is why someone else will make a decision. And that all he has to do is be honest. And that either outcome will be okay. We'll make it work. And that he is not responsible for my or DH's happiness. And that nothing in the world could ever change how I feel about him.
Am I messing up here? I don't know what else I can do. The circumstances were and are such that I cannot hide the fact that there IS a court case from him, but of course he knows NOTHING of the contents or details.
Toto wants to see someone to talk about this stuff. A counsellor. And the thing that is killing me right now is that I am not allowed to take him to any counsellor as it WILL be construed as me trying to coerce him or have him "taught" what to say to the court when his turn comes. When all I want to do is help my aching child.
I'd like to write to the School Principal and arrange to talk with him because surely, as a Christian school, they provide Pastoral Care? I am worried, however, because DH's sister teaches there, and has taught there for nearly 8 years. I'm just not quite sure about whether she would use this against me as a means for her brothers' quest.
Bastard..... How could anyone knowingly do this to their children? And he DOES know, because the children and I have tried to tell him. He just needs to win at any cost. My brother told me today that feels sorry for ALL of us. DH included. I tried that emotion on for a second or two. And then shrugged it off in a shudder of revulsion. I cannot empathise with this man. Eleven years of being at the receiving end of his treatment of me and my children has taught me that.
Okay.... breathe....
Round one is over.
I don’t know what the worst of my physical reaction to the stress was. I’ve had trouble breathing all morning, and my hands were shaking and my eyeballs seemed to literally twitch from side-to-side when I tried to focus on anything (I haven’t had that reaction before).
But now I’m home and can breathe.
It’s not good news, but it’s most definitely not the bad news that I was dreading, so I’m feeling pretty good. Well, I’m emotional and teary to be honest. I want it to be over, and it’s not going to be for a long time.
It is SO vile to sit across from DH in the Family Court waiting area. Suddenly it’s 10.5 years ago and we’re in the same room going through the same process. Only then I was 39 weeks pregnant-fat, and now I’m just fat-fat. He hasn’t changed though. Still looks like neanderthal man.
And I want to be able to contact Toto and Boo to let them know that, for the moment, they will still be living with me. Last night they were both so scared and worried about suddenly having to move to DH’s.
Yes, that’s the good news.
But it’s only because the Interim Hearing was delayed in order to appoint an Independent Children’s Lawyer (ICL) for the boys. DH and I also have to see a Family Court Counsellor (not together, thank God). Oh and DH’s lawyer has applied for extra time to respond to my response to his Application. Because (as she said to the Judicial Registrar) the Respondent (moi) has made some serious allegations. Har. She also wants to subpoena my shrink and GP ... obviously trying to prove me unfit.
The Interim Hearing (barring delays) should now be in about 10 - 12 weeks. That’s dependent upon the ICL and the court-appointed Counsellor that DH and I have to see.
He’s digging his heels in. My WISH was that he and his lawyer would read my affidavit and realise that he wasn’t going to win and would back down. That hasn’t happened.
So... it’s the long haul. And the big money. Although THAT part of it doesn’t seem to worry DH.
I don’t know what the worst of my physical reaction to the stress was. I’ve had trouble breathing all morning, and my hands were shaking and my eyeballs seemed to literally twitch from side-to-side when I tried to focus on anything (I haven’t had that reaction before).
But now I’m home and can breathe.
It’s not good news, but it’s most definitely not the bad news that I was dreading, so I’m feeling pretty good. Well, I’m emotional and teary to be honest. I want it to be over, and it’s not going to be for a long time.
It is SO vile to sit across from DH in the Family Court waiting area. Suddenly it’s 10.5 years ago and we’re in the same room going through the same process. Only then I was 39 weeks pregnant-fat, and now I’m just fat-fat. He hasn’t changed though. Still looks like neanderthal man.
And I want to be able to contact Toto and Boo to let them know that, for the moment, they will still be living with me. Last night they were both so scared and worried about suddenly having to move to DH’s.
Yes, that’s the good news.
But it’s only because the Interim Hearing was delayed in order to appoint an Independent Children’s Lawyer (ICL) for the boys. DH and I also have to see a Family Court Counsellor (not together, thank God). Oh and DH’s lawyer has applied for extra time to respond to my response to his Application. Because (as she said to the Judicial Registrar) the Respondent (moi) has made some serious allegations. Har. She also wants to subpoena my shrink and GP ... obviously trying to prove me unfit.
The Interim Hearing (barring delays) should now be in about 10 - 12 weeks. That’s dependent upon the ICL and the court-appointed Counsellor that DH and I have to see.
He’s digging his heels in. My WISH was that he and his lawyer would read my affidavit and realise that he wasn’t going to win and would back down. That hasn’t happened.
So... it’s the long haul. And the big money. Although THAT part of it doesn’t seem to worry DH.
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